Take Me Home
by rhodesXmorrisonXorton
Summary: Randy Orton finally heads home to see his wife after months of traveling and late night house shows. A simple reunion one-shot, warm and fuzzy for the softhearted… Randy Orton/OC one-shot


**One-shot:** Take Me Home

* * *

><p><strong>Brief Summary:<strong> _Randy Orton finally heads home to see his wife after months of traveling and late night house shows. A simple reunion one-shot, warm and fuzzy for the softhearted…_

**Author's Note:** _Hey y'all, I would like to dedicate this one-shot to the most awesome and the coolest Superstar with the most badass tattoos in the world, Randy Orton. A couple of months ago, I watched a video on Randy's Youtube channel and made a comment about it, and he actually replied back to me, which totally made my day, so yeah, since I'm in a good mood I decided to write this for him :) Hope y'all enjoy this special one-shot dedicated to 'The Viper' Randy Orton. =D_

* * *

><p>The tour bus pulls up in front of a Victorian style house situated in the midst of a suburban neighborhood in St. Charles, Missouri. Its sleek, black shine glistens underneath the glaring rays of summer while the residents of the area look on curiously; the sight of something so lavish and modern was unusual albeit they knew exactly who it belonged to.<p>

Very little activity would spontaneously appear in the peaceful neighborhood, but the arrival of that very tour bus indicated the return of someone significant who lived in that neighborhood. That someone made a name for himself across the world, working shows and selling merchandise, gaining a fan base worldwide and bringing a well-respected reputation back to his home state of Missouri. He was one of the biggest names in professional wrestling, particularly the biggest promotion in the world, the World Wrestling Entertainment, or as it should be referred to as an empty acronym with its recent name change. He was the biggest draw on Friday Nights, the Alpha male and top dog of the blue show, a household name in the United States of America and beyond.

The automatic door of the bus pops open and slides aside, as a tall, 6'4'' broad-shouldered male steps out, glancing around the scene with a relaxed smile on his face. He takes a breath of the fresh air, noticing not much had changed since he'd last paid a visit to his home. He walks over to the trunk to retrieve his luggage, a gym bag slung across his shoulder. A neighbor next to him mowing the lawn greets him happily and he answers back with a friendly wave and a hello.

Fans of Monday and Friday Nights would easily recognize this face: from the piercing electric blue eyes to the double sleeve tattoos adorning his well-muscled biceps. When the B-show would hit televisions across the world 7/8pm central, viewers of all ages would hop onto their couches eagerly, jumping in their seats awaiting his signature slither and snake-like ring antics. Like the lucky attendees at tapings or live shows, the millions watching him at home would scream in excitement as he hits his signature finisher, the _RKO_.

Returning back to his hometown was definitely a breath of fresh air for Randy Orton. It was a relief from the constant chants of 'RKO' ringing in his ears with every arena he visited for a show. Instead of working out intensely in preparation for the next house show, he was home, finally home, after months of homesickness. He couldn't wait to knock on the walnut door of the Victorian style house he shared with his beautiful maiden and make his return announcement that would echo off the walls of every room in the house.

"Mr. Orton! Welcome back!" greeted Tom Deller the gardener, plucking out weeds from his flowerbed on the front porch, "how was yer trip this round?"

"Good, but tiring. It's hard work being on the road all the time," chuckled Randy. What he loved about his neighborhood was that the inhabitants respected his superstar status and need for privacy, so all of them made a pact to treat him like any other everyday person.

"Speakin' of which, yer honey darling's waiting for ye in the kitchen," added Tom, grinning toothily, "I think she's making ye a nice meal, especially after all the road food you've been eatin'."

Randy smiled widely at the thought of his beautiful Alaina, his 5'5'', light chestnut-haired beauty, the woman of his dreams and the love of his life. He'd been dying to see her since their last Skype call, where she surprised him with a little something naughty yet so nice. Though Alaina was a heartwarming sweetheart, she could also be a fiery sex kitten, and it was during those times when she looked too good to eat. He ached to capture her in his arms and take her to bed to catch up on every day he missed without her.

He was fed up with the long-distance phone calls, the Skype conversations, the emails, and the IM's—none of those were the same as being with the real thing herself. Long-distance communication wasn't the same as holding her curvy figure against the hard planes of his muscle, burying his face in the silkiness of her hair and breathing in her flowery scent. The hotel beds and the one on the back of his bus wasn't the same as sleeping next to his honey darling and waking up with her in his embrace every morning. Nothing was the same without his beautiful Alaina.

Randy strolled towards the front door, lugging his trolley bag behind him, peering through the window and smiling when he caught the sight of her from behind. He licked his lips when he noticed she appeared to wear nothing but one of his shirts, the very same pinstriped, off-white button-down shirt he saw her in just a few Skype calls ago. He knew how much she loved wearing his shirts, and hell he thought she looked amazing in them. His fingers itched to tear them away from her delectable body.

Alaina turned off the fire and took the bubbling pot of cream of mushroom soup off the stove, letting it cool slightly before stirring it a few times and giving herself a small spoon of it to taste. Nodding her head in approval, she separated the soup into two bowls and placed them in front of each setting on the table. Once she added a small sprig of parsley on top of each creamy concoction, she set the pot aside in case he wanted more. Alaina knew her signature mushroom soup was a favorite of her husband's; it was a recipe passed down from several generations ago. Once the soup was finished, she turned to the steaks and began frying them on a grill.

Since Randy announced his plans to pay a visit for a week off, Alaina had prepared well for this very day. She'd gone out the previous morning to the farmer's market to fetch all her ingredients and drove to a large mall in St. Louis to pick up a few presents for her husband. She had her hair and nails done, for she wanted to prim up a bit before Randy's return to St. Charles. She'd woken up early this morning to prepare a special brunch for him, to welcome him back home.

Alaina didn't hear the door open, for she had been engulfed in the sputtering oil of the grill as she flipped the steaks over. Even the smell of pan-fried steaks made her mouth water. She retrieved a towel and wiped the sweat off of her forehead, quickly placing both steaks on a platter plate just minutes after they'd been on the pan—both she and Randy shared a taste for their steak done medium rare. She scooped a few spoons of her garlic pesto with ground cashews into a sauce bowl and set it on the table before slicing up the steaks.

Randy quietly crept into the corridor, catching the mouthwatering scent of freshly cooked steak and mushroom soup. He rolled his luggage to the side and dumped his gym bag next to it. He decided he'd start unpacking later; for now, the only thing on his mind was his beautiful wife, standing before him with her back to him, the twin cheeks of her bottom peeking out from the dress shirt she wore. Her straight chestnut brown tresses were done in a loose side ponytail. Though he craved for homemade food by his talented Alaina, the only dish he desired the most was her.

He hid behind the wall separating the front hall from the kitchen, watching as Alaina turned around to place what appeared to be a large bowl of his favorite chicken alfredo pasta. He recognized the shirt she wore as one of his favorite dress shirts, the cotton material hanging loosely on her lithe frame so seductively. He watched her bend over to pick up a towel that had dropped on the floor and his eyes darted towards the tops of her breasts exposed from where the shirt was buttoned. God, he'd never seen her so beautiful like this. Perhaps it was the way he missed her so dearly. Unable to control himself, he slowly crept behind her while she fetched two sets of utensils, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the softness of her hair, purring in her ear.

Alaina gasped as she felt two arms snake around her waist and before she could blink, the pair of arms pulled her till her back met a hard, muscular chest. Her gut clinched as she caught a familiar scent, the subtle smell of Armani cologne catching her breath, the rough, prickly ends of stubble brushing against her ear tickling her skin. She sighed as she looked down at the double ink around her waist, knowing exactly who had surprised her like this.

"I'm home, baby," Randy whispered, pressing a kiss to Alaina's ear. He whirled her around to face him and captured her lips in a longing, loving kiss. It had been too long since he had her in his arms, it had been too long since they'd been together like this. He wanted to kiss her forever, he wanted to take her straight to the bedroom, he ached to devour her in so many naughty ways. Oh, he truly missed his beautiful Alaina so.

"Oh, Randy," cried Alaina, wrapping her arms around his neck, as Randy's arms trailed down to her thighs, where he lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his neck, "how I missed you so!"

Randy broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes; no words were needed to say how much the couple loved and cherished each other's company. He kissed away the tears that escaped his darling's gold-flecked green eyes, chuckling as Alaina restrained her tears of happiness. After the dissolution of his first marriage, he had fallen in love with Alaina, his childhood friend turned sweetheart when they began a romantic relationship when the divorce was finalized. The couple eloped months ago in a private ceremony away from civilization, but just as they were about to move in, Randy was called back to work early and forced to leave Alaina unpacking their things. From that incident, Randy swore to never leave his wife again at the most inconvenient time, for he couldn't bear to leave her to do all the work while he was away.

"I'll never leave you again, baby, I'm so sorry," Randy's words trembled, as he held her close and ran his fingers through her hair, "I'll never leave you alone like this."

"It doesn't matter," replied Alaina, her voice so heartfelt and forgiving, "all that matters is you're home."


End file.
